The Dressing Gown Incident
by Unknown-de-Mordor
Summary: Ford discover surprising things about himself and Arthur when the teleport decidedly dropped the Earthman with just the dressing gown. Ford/Arthur established relationship. This is my bad attempt at humor and it's not Brit-picked.


Title: The Dressing Gown Incident

Author: Unknown_de_Mordor

Rating: R (M/M)

Fandom: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Pairing: Ford/Arthur (Established Relationship)

Disclaimer: Not DNA, don't own a thing. Can't even make this funny.

Author Note: Tons of terrible innuendos, but nothing graphic.

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The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say about Betelgeusian's sexual habits:

They are vaguely separated into two genders – male and female – distinguished by the ability to receive and make use of genetic materials and has nothing to do with external reproduction organ whatsoever. In other word, females are those who are able to bear children while male are not. Females are also able to give genetic materials. In other word, male are pretty much a useless sex unless, of course, you really, really, want to conceive.

Due the fact that they need genetic material from more than one mothers, generally six, courting of Betelgeusian usually happens at parties where males and females decide who wants to go with whom and finally invite the people to their private sex party where it ends with an orgies that everyone is involved. This contributes to the evolution of Betelgeusian into excellent party-goer since, as it is, it is their primary mating site, and giving them high sexual stamina with the highest record of four days made by Zaphod Beeblebrox on his encounter with Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon Six. They are normally active every three to four months as the activity is highly energy consuming and normally no one would want to consider having a child so soon after her friend does because it can be deemed a competition.

Therefore, Ford Prefect, being a Betelgeusian himself, never thought he would have his get-up after only two months and a week.

If there was anything to be blamed, it would be the teleport that sent his boyfriend's inner garment somewhere else in the known universe but where Arthur Dent had, in fact, dropped. The teleport, however, had the decency to still keep the dressing gown wrapped around the Earthling's body so not to expose the said body to the cool air of some ship isolated deck and possibly a few security cameras. That, however, did not prevent Ford from having nice views of Arthur's chest, a bit of a shoulder, and the thigh teasingly visible.

The Earthman noticed the absent of his clothing immediately and tugged the dressing gown tighter around himself. And he did as all Earthmen did which was stating the obvious.

"Ford, my clothes…" he whined in panic but then stopped as he noticed the shocked stare from Ford. "What?"

"Your clothes," Ford muttered.

"Yeah, it's gone," Arthur confirmed with frustration. He seemed to notice the subtle changes in the Betelgeusian's expression and was staring nervously back.

"Look," the Earthman tried again with shaken voice, "do you have boxers on you?"

Ford was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts which were ever heading south, "What?"

"Boxers," Arthur swallowed, "Can you lend it to me?" he said whilst crossing his legs nervously together. "It's rather…breezy…without it."

"Oh," Ford muttered absently, his mind was obviously elsewhere especially with the mention of a boxers. A little part of his brain knocked violently at the rest that _this_ was not actually a good time as they were obviously just on board another ship. It would be a matter of time before the crew found them, and it might lead to a very awkward situation if they were to be found…tangled…so to speak.

But the rest of his brain just stared at the little part and shouted 'Go Bugger', before resuming their lines of thought down south.

"Ford," Arthur called him again. When he didn't reply, the Earthman crawled over the only meter between them and yanked at his jeans.

That sent a completely wrong kind of signal to Ford's forgone brain. Instead of handing his earth-born boyfriend the boxers, he yanked Arthur onto his lap and started kissing his jaw line.

"Ford!" Arthur, now completely in panic, tried to pulled himself away but was caught by his upper arms and pulled back, sending his lips right on Ford's. And like Ford Prefect would ever waste an opportunity like that. He took that as a cue to kiss Arthur senseless which might have work very well if not for the fact that Arthur Dent was British, and modesty ranked very high with his sort.

"Ford, no!" he pulled back successfully at last, panting breathlessly, "We just got on a ship!"

"Eh?" Ford replied without actually thinking about it. He tried to move over to Arthur but the Earthman pushed him back.

"We're NOT doing it on a deck of an unknown ship!"

He pushed forward. "Then stop being so irresistible already!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Oh, yes, you are. And you were yanking at my pants, too. Now, you're saying you don't want it?"

"I don't want to do this. I just want the boxers."

"You in my boxers would be twice as arousing, do you know that?"

"How is- What?" Arthur suddenly stopped mid-push. By then, after many pushing back and forth, Arthur was already on his back and Ford was looming over him in a very compromising position. Still, the Earthman didn't take notice. He was too shock by the fact that "You're aroused?"

Ford made a face and gestured vaguely to his, by then, angry hard-on.

Arthur looked down then looked back up, and gaped, "But…but I thought you won't be able to-"

"Yeah, I thought so, too."

"-for at least another three weeks."

"Precisely what I've been thinking," Ford sighed; "Look, if you want my boxer, I've to take it off first anyway. So while we're at it, we might as well do something about it, right?"

Arthur was gaping once, twice, before he replied, "But we're on a ship deck!"

Ford groaned and got up to his feet before dragging Arthur up and along with him.

"Ford?" Arthur called alarmingly, "Where are we going?"

It was at that exact time that Ford saw a door, swung it opened and pushed Arthur right in. The Earthman landed on the floor of what looked like a small storage room. He heard a loud bang of metal as the Betelgeusian pushed something to block the doorway. Satisfied, Ford resumed to looming over the Earthman, throwing his satchel away with a loud thud.

And when Ford threw his satchel like that, Arthur knew he meant business. From the look in Ford by-then dark eyes, Arthur also knew that there was no negotiation.

But negotiate he must.

"Ford, look," he tried when Ford pushed him back down on the floor and nuzzled at his neck with a purr like a big ginger kitten, planting kisses everywhere his mouth could reach. His weight was all on Arthur as if he yearned desperately for physical contact. Arthur groaned a little as the man above him roll his hip against his side and let his raging arousal known. Arthur would have enjoyed this quite a lot if not for the damn bad timing.

"Ford," he pushed the man up a bit so they could look eye-to-eye, "you know best that we can't do this right now. We're on a ship off to some unknown destination. Anything could happen. And you, well, you would need a day to get rid of this. We don't have time."

"We have," the Betelgeusian replied. He grabbed hold of Arhur's wrists and pinned them to the floor and started to nip at Arthur's ears, "I've locked the door."

"That's not…mmn.. That's not it. We're… I won't be able to walk!"

"I already can't" said Ford as he nipped down Arthur's neck, tracing every sensitive spot he still had the sense to remember. He took Arthur's right hand down between them and let the Earthman feel what had become of the usually timid Ford junior. Arthur simply gasped.

Then reality came thundering to the Earthling's mind, there was no way they could back out on this.

But he couldn't go forward either. Forward promised to be a disaster. Arthur started to hyperventilate from Ford's ministration, the sheer sense of panic, and the need for extra oxygen to think, think, think.

"Right then," he said, finally resolute in what he had to do. He pushed Ford, not up but to the side, and rolled them over. They ended up with Ford on his back panting, looking bewildered, and Arthur straddling his hip.

"If you have stamina of a human, I would have let you do whatever you like," said Arthur as he reached for the towel in Ford's satchel, now within their reach, and proceeded to loom over Ford with his hands in the Betelgeusian's. "But we need to get this done quickly and I need to be able to walk afterward. For that," he lowered his head to give Ford a brief kiss, "I'll be in charge this time."

Something about what Arthur just said and the manner he said it sent warm tingles up and down Ford's body, especially to Ford junior now under Arthur's firm control. The warmth and the pressure alone could send Ford's eyes rolling back into his skull. He thrust up, making his appreciation known, but Arthur kept him firmly down with hands on his chest and weight grounding his hip.

"Holy Zarquon," the Betelgeusian muttered as he drank in the sight of Arthur on top of him, dressing gown parted enough to see his creamy thighs but teasingly covered where it mattered most. Ford's hands crept up the tender skin but were pinned over his head with Arthur's own. Zarquon, he wished this didn't have to end soon. He was starting to like this side of Arthur and how unintentionally sexy he was being in charge with only the dressing gown on him. It made Ford's mind ran a thousand parsecs in every direction to different ideas he would love to do with his Earthman.

He wanted to touch. He tried to move his hands again, but they wouldn't. He looked up and found that Arthur had firmly tied them to a metal post just above his head with his towel.

Ford looked back to his lover half confused, half ridiculously excited. He didn't know when Arthur learnt to do _that_ with a towel, or how Arthur could possibly be this aphrodisiacal (he couldn't have possibly learnt the art of pheromone control, could he?) He let out an appreciative moan as the Earthling bundled up his t-shirt and kissed down his body to the waistline of his jeans. Fingers tracing teasingly over the rim, Arthur whispered, "I probably need to get the boxer off before it gets dirty."

[***]

They were sitting side by side on a bench in the living quarter now, but Ford wasn't able to stop grinning stupidly at the wall in front of him. In fact, he had been grinning stupidly at everything since they were brought out of the storage room slightly flushed half an hour ago. By then, Ford was calm enough to walk straight again and Arthur had a boxers underneath his dressing gown. Fortunately, a grin was considered a blessing on the Shaltanacs's ship, especially one that presented supreme happiness. They got the deal for their ride and were left to their devices shortly after. If their activity in the storage room was ever known, no one mentioned it. And it was not like the Shaltanacs is capable of being unhappy anyway.

Arthur had been quiet since they left that room. Ford couldn't quite tell if he was exhausted or embarrassed (as he typically would be if he had been grinding on his tied-up boyfriend in a storage room of an alien spaceship). He was just starting to turn a little white after being pink to the tip of his ears for quite sometimes. Ford rather liked Arthur being pink, he decided, matched well with his dressing gown.

The Betelgeusian leant a bit closer and whispered into the Earthman's ear, "That was incredible."

Arthur's ears turned pink again. "We're not talking about it," he replied sternly without looking the man in the eye. The cold shoulder only made Ford leant in closer.

"I'm complimenting you, you know," he whispered in deep low voice reserved for when he was teasing the Earthman. "That was unbelievable, seriously. You got me down in record time. Beating Eccentrica Gallumbits for certain."

Arthur blushed crimson by that time. "I said we're not discussing this," he hissed sharply, still not willing to meet Ford's gaze. "And don't compare me with her."

Ford frowned in confusion, "I'm the only talking here. How is it a discussion?"

"I mean don't say _anything_ about it," Arthur turned and hissed sharply at Ford, still not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. "And sit further away, would you?"

"No."

"Ford…"

Ford was sure he is not a sadist, but he does love hearing Arthur whines his name in distress. But distress wouldn't do on a Shaltanacs ship as it is considered a contagious disease. He needed that remedied.

Therefore, he sneaked an arm around Arthur and pulled the man against his side, "You're tired. Just go to sleep."

Arthur's first reaction, of course, was to pull away with a complaint. "What? Ford, we're not-"

But the Betelgeusian kept his grip firm. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you. Just go to sleep."

Finally, the Earthman stopped fighting back. He sighed in defeat as he let his head rest on Ford's shoulder. "You _do_ realize that the last time you said that we almost die?" he said.

"Don't quite recall," replied Ford as he rubbed soothingly on Arthur's upper arm, "I'll tell you if it happens."

Arthur responded with a noise in his throat before he finally fell into slumber and left Ford grinning stupidly watching his boyfriend snoring peacefully by his side. Pheromone control does wonder every time.

-END-

Thank you so much for reading! And drop me a line of review, please!


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